


a mixed match (not a mismatch)

by amusewithaview



Series: Nothing but love in view [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Asexual Character, Asexual Darcy Lewis, Asexuality, Asexuality Spectrum, Gen, Platonic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-02-11 11:13:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2066046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusewithaview/pseuds/amusewithaview
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy didn’t realize she was different until she was in college.  She had crushes in high school, but it was <i>high school</i> and, boobs or no, she hadn’t really had a handle on the whole “this is how you flirt, this is how you date” thing.  Once she got to Culver, though, she started noticing things.</p><p>Like the ways people looked at her.</p><p>Like the ways she <i>didn’t</i> look back.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(A "What if?" spin-off from the main continuity of "Nothing but love in view.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. in which Darcy is a hedgehog

**Author's Note:**

> Just for the record, while this story features an ace!Darcy ( _hard_ ace, I know it's a spectrum), I am not in any way, shape, or form meaning to imply that all platonic soulmate bonds are caused by/ a result of one person in the relationship being ace. Most ace soulmate bonds are platonic, not all platonic soulmate bonds involve ace!people. 
> 
> This involves a bit more world-building, so here! *shoves my headcanons at you*

Darcy didn’t realize she was different until she was in college. She had crushes in high school, but it was _high school_ and, boobs or no, she hadn’t really had a handle on the whole “this is how you flirt, this is how you date” thing. Once she got to Culver, though, she started noticing things.

Like the ways people looked at her.

Like the ways she _didn’t_ look back.

She liked people, but she didn’t _like people_. She tried kissing: guys and girls and people who didn’t want to be labeled. She tried sex: it was wet, and messy, and she preferred the solo version, thanks much, especially once she was introduced to the wonders of vibrators and dildos and self-stimulation (oh my!). She didn’t think about _people_ when she was going solo…she didn’t think about much at all, really.

Was there something wrong with her?

Darcy spent a few days trying to figure out what to do: googling “doesn’t like sex” or “not attracted to people” tended to turn up either really obnoxious suggestions or _really scary porn_. Eventually, she tracked down one of her prior experimental partners, a boy who was sometimes a girl, and regardless of preferred gender-of-the-day, went by the name ‘Morgan.’

“You might be ace,” Morgan told her kindly, once she’d explained, “or demi, or a hundred other things.”

“So…I _might_ like people?”

“Oh, Darcy,” Morgan sighed, “just because _liking_ people doesn’t equate to _fucking_ them for you, that doesn’t make you weird or wrong or anything. You’re _fine_ just as you are, Dee. Here, let me give you some numbers and some websites, and maybe think about looking into the Alliance?”

Darcy nodded, then voiced the question that was _really_ bothering her: “I have two soulmates. What about – what if I don’t want to have sex with them? What if I _do?_ I just…”

Morgan pulled her into a hug. “Don’t borrow trouble, Darcy, you do _you_ for now, let the rest handle itself.”

That…was pretty sound advice, but it didn’t exactly assuage her fears.

Still, she worked on ‘doing Darcy’ (not like _that_ , well, _also_ ‘like that’ but not _solely_ ‘like that’). Looking into the Alliance on campus was interesting. There were people like Morgan: not into labels; there were people like Darcy: not sure what the hell was going on; there were friendly people and not-so-friendly people. She spent the most time talking with the Soulmate Separatists, an on-campus group committed to spreading information on the darker side of soulmates.

Or, as Georgia – their spokesperson and leader - liked to say, “Debunking Disney.”

From them, Darcy learned that, whether her soulmates wanted sex or no, she was not obligated to them in any way, shape, or form. It was something she’d known in theory but, well, head vs. heart knowledge: giving voice to her fears, hearing about some real-life worst-case scenarios, it helped her figure out an action plan in case the worst were to happen.

She still wasn’t sure what ‘the worst’ was, to her, so she tried to emotionally prepare for _everything_.

Mostly, though, Darcy learned to let it go.

And, once she went to New Mexico, met a god, and got wrapped up in _pure crazy_ , that was a handy skill to have.

Still, even with all that talk, all those ‘worst-case scenario’ planning sessions, _nothing_ could have prepared her for meeting her soulmates. _Nothing._

Darcy met Soulmate #1: left scapula, “Just put that wherever, it’s all a mess,” while moving Jane’s precious science stuff. Upon hearing _those_ words come out of _Tony Freaking Stark’s_ mouth, she _dropped_ said stuff, and then spent the next minute cursing the ceiling and clutching at her foot because science stuff was _heavy_ and her life was _fucking bizarre._

“I did not expect you to be… _you_ ,” is what she finally said to _Tony Freaking Stark_ once she finished her cursing and found him staring at her with mingled amusement and respect.

“Those were some pretty inventi - _what did you say?_ ” he changed tracks mid-sentence as her words registered, eyes going lazer-intense and focused. “What did you _just_ say?” he demanded, “Say it _again_.”

“…I didn’t expect you to be you?”

He made a soft ‘oof’ sort of noise and seemed to…deflate, still staring at her, but now his expression was more bewildered than anything else. After a second he lifted his shirt a little to show her words curving around his side, right above _another_ set of words which said, ‘There’s something wrong with these numbers, sir.’

Darcy stared at them, the second set of handwriting on his side was definitely _not_ the same as _her_ second soulmate’s, so, that was interesting…and bound to be complicated. “I’m going to assume that you don’t have a problem with partial nudity,” she informed him, turning away and lifting her shirt half-off to reveal her upper back as she did so.

“What? _Rude!_ Oh, wait. Yeah, uh, that is definitely my handwriting.”

“It’s very sloppy,” Darcy noted, for lack of anything better to say.

“I’m an engineer! Who handwrites things, anyways?”

“Didn’t you go to school during the time when they _required_ good penmanship?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, “Was that a crack about my age? I feel like that was a crack about my age.”

Darcy rolled her eyes, “Dude, I’m like at _least_ fifteen years younger than you? You should prepare for a _lot_ of cracks about your age.”

Tony sort of jerked at that, a full-body twitch that brought back the tension that Darcy had slowly been allowing to seep from her shoulders. “About that,” he said slowly, “I have another soulmate. I don’t know…”

“That’s cool, I have another one too.”

He looked _incredibly_ relieved, “You do? Awesome! Because I don’t think Pepper would really want to share and, while you are undeniably very…” he made a vague gesture towards her figure, which made Darcy wince, “I don’t think I _want_ to be shared?” He frowned, “Huh, I feel like I just grew as a person. JARVIS, mark this day down. Personal growth: I _don’t_ feel the need to suggest a threesome.”

“Noted, sir,” came a dry, accented male voice from everywhere and nowhere.

Darcy sort of squinted at Tony. “I don’t _want_ to sleep with you,” she told him slowly.

“That’s good!” he said brightly, and, waving a hand smoothly in front of him, told her, “ _This isn’t the soulmate you’re looking for._ ”

“…Star Wars?”

“Why not?”

“More of a Trek fan, really,” Darcy muttered. This was going slightly better than she’d feared. Not _worst-case_ scenario, more like _weirdest-case_ , which, yeah, she wasn’t sure if that was better.

“Well then, it’s official,” Tony decreed solemnly, “we would never have worked out. As a couple.”

Darcy rolled her eyes – she had a feeling that those muscles would get _quite_ a workout around Tony Stark. “I do not want to ‘couple’ with you,” she told him, “I have _never_ wanted to ‘couple’ with you, I swear by the Internet that I _will never_ want to ‘couple’ with you. Feel better?”

He blinked, startled by that little speech, “Better, yes. Also vaguely insulted. I think.”

It was too soon to roll her eyes again, those muscles might get strained. “Sex is off the table, wanna be friends?”

“Will we braid each others’ hair and talk about boys?”

Darcy wrinkled her nose, “Ew. No.”

“…talk about girls?” Tony inquired.

“I said let’s be _friends_ , not characters from a crappy teen movie.”

“Friends,” Tony said, sort of frowning at her, “I can do that. I think.”

Ouch, that was hurtful but still better than worst-case. She’d take it.

And she did. Tony (after he insisted that having one of his soulmates call him ‘Mr. Stark’ was weird and inappropriate unless it was consensually kinky, which, no, never, see ‘coupling’) helped her get the rest of Jane’s stuff sorted, then he asked her up to the residential section of the Tower, specifically _his_ part, to introduce her to his other soulmate.

Darcy kind of wanted to object to the meeting. She knew she wasn’t at her best what with the move, dealing with Jane’s frazzlement over her science stuff, and dealing with the science stuff. Plus, talking about relationships with people not-in-the-know was always kind of fraught for her, and, soulmate or not, she didn’t really _know_ Tony. She wasn’t ready to have the ‘I’m not broken, just different’ discussion with him (or his other soulmate, re:strangers)…especially given his reputation. Darcy knew she could be prickly and defensive on related topics even at the best of times: this was not the best of times.

So she was dismayed, but not surprised when a disturbingly familiar conversation ensued while he went out to put in an order for food that would no doubt _far_ more expensive and high-class than she could afford on her own, and, being as he had ‘people’ to do this sort of thing for him, this was probably a plot on his part to try and avoid an awkward moment.

Pepper Potts (who was _way_ too intimidating for her name to be amusing) was studying Darcy with a decidedly neutral expression on her face, which, wow, she wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or slightly flattered that this incredibly put-together woman considered her a possible threat to her relationship.

“So, Tony tells me you have another soulmate?”

“Yes, haven’t met them yet, though.”

Pepper nodded, “Well, you will. Something to look forward to.”

Darcy kept her face very carefully blank because, judging by this experience and her ongoing _bizarre_ luck, she was hoping to _never meet another new person again. Ever._ She looked up at the ceiling instead of responding to that somewhat patronizing statement, “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Ms. Lewis?”

He really was _everywhere_ , which was creepy, but also sort of convenient right now. “Please call me Darcy, and could you playback the conversation I had with Tony when we met?”

“All of it, Ms. Darcy, or just the ‘couple’ speech?”

‘Ms. Darcy’ wasn’t much better than ‘Ms. Lewis,’ but she’d take it. “It wasn’t really a _speech_ ,” she objected, “but yeah, play back that bit. Please.”

There was a soft whirring sound as a mechanical doohickey lowered from the ceiling and projected a _3-D model of Darcy and Tony_ (holy shit, why was that tech not on the market?!), which helpfully rotated till Darcy’s face was pointed towards Pepper Pott’s direction as she explained the ‘no sexy’ thing.

She watched Pepper’s face, but it was pretty blank the whole time. The woman probably cleaned up in poker, and Darcy _knew_ she cleaned up in boardrooms and Senate hearings; she’d seen the tape. When the vid was over, Pepper turned back to Darcy, clearing her throat and offering a small, wry smile.

“You fit his general…type,” she said, tone slightly apologetic.

Darcy _barely_ restrained herself from saying something rude like, ‘Female?’ or ‘Breathing?’ because, awkward assumptions about Tony’s appeal or no, this was her soulmate’s other soulmate (say _that_ five times fast) and she wanted to get along with the other woman.

‘Other woman,’ hah.

“Trust me,” Darcy said instead, “he doesn’t fit mine.” _Because I don’t have one,_ she added mentally.

“So, if you don’t mind my asking, what do you see your relationship with Tony becoming?”

It was hard not to say that she _did_ mind the asking, actually, since Pepper – for all her awesome – was still _a complete stranger_. For the second time, Darcy bit her tongue though, mentally awarding herself a maturity point, and instead answered the question at least semi-honestly: “I don’t really know? I mean, we’re going to be working together, since I’m Jane’s assistant. I’d like us to be friends. If _he_ wants that, I mean, which…I’m not really sure that he does, to be honest.”

Pepper frowned, “Why would you say that?”

“Ms. Potts, if I may?” JARVIS interrupted.

“Yes, of course,” she answered.

The sound of Tony’s voice filled the room: “ _Friends, I can do that. I think._ ”

Hearing for a second time that her soulmate wasn’t even sure he wanted to be _friends_ with her was still hurtful.

“Oh,” Pepper said in sudden understanding, and the look she shot Darcy was enough to make her question how pathetic she must appear if she’d gone from ‘potential rival’ to ‘someone who needs reassurance’ that quickly. “It’s not that he doesn’t _want_ to be friends with you,” Pepper explained, “he’s just…not all that good at human relations.”

Darcy leveled Pepper with her best skeptical look.

Pepper rolled her eyes (Darcy made a note that she ought to ask the woman if she’d ever strained those muscles around Tony), “He is very charming when he wants to be, when he feels he _needs_ to be, but… he can be forgetful.”

“Scientists,” she said, giving her best ‘what can you do?’ shrug.

“Yes,” Pepper said, expression now verging on speculative, “you _are_ used to working with eccentric individuals.”

“It’s half my resume at this point, well, the half that isn’t redacted.”

Pepper made a hmming sort of noise, then, out of the blue, asked, “And me? What do you want our relationship to be?”

Darcy squinted at her because what? “Well,” she said slowly, gathering her thoughts. “You’re the soulmate of my soulmate, so, I mean, it would be nice if we could be friends? Not really sure what we have in common besides Tony, but it’d be cool to find out? I don’t know what you’re looking for, here.”

“The truth,” Pepper said.

“I have absolutely no desire to have any sort of sexual contact with Tony,” Darcy said flatly.

“Yes, I’m getting that – “

“Are you?” Darcy asked, really kind of annoyed at this point, “Because it feels like everything you guys are asking me circles back to that. Look, Ms. Potts, you seem cool. I’ve always been a fan of your work, breaking the glass ceiling and all that, and I think it would be neat if we could be friends, but I don’t think we _can_ be friends until you get that _I do not want to fuck Tony._ ”

“I – “ Pepper started, looking startled.

She was done with the day, though, and it all came spilling out: “Please tell Tony that it was nice meeting him, and you,” _sort of,_ she mentally amended, standing, “but that I have a lot of unpacking to do,” _assuming I’m still welcome here_ , “and it’s been kind of an exhausting day, what with moving all Jane’s science crap and meeting one of my soulmates, so, if you don’t mind, and, honestly, even if you _do_ mind, I’m going to go unpack, or sleep. Probably sleep.”

Pepper was standing too, _and_ following her to the elevator, now looking worried and a little exasperated, “Would you please just – “

“Tell Tony I’ll probably see him at work,” Darcy said, standing close enough to the elevator doors that the only way the other woman would be able to get in was if she _physically_ moved Darcy, which, to be honest, she’d allow. She might be frustrated, tired, and have reached her limits for the day, but she wasn’t _smackdown-with-soulmate-of-her-soulmate_ done.

The elevator did not stop, or even stutter, as it moved to her floor, which, yay, nobody was trying to stop her? She sort of regretted blowing up like that, but, limits: reached. Threshold for awkward conversations: reached. Amount that she _did not_ want to sit and have a no-doubt _extremely awkward_ dinner with Pepper and Tony: colossal.

Amount that work tomorrow would be awkward… _potentially_ colossal.

She was really going to have to amend her ‘worst-case scenario’ plans.


	2. in which an understanding is reached

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that ace!story I was having a lot of trouble with weeks ago? THIS. THIS IS IT. I figured out the kinks, though, so I figured I'd give you guys some chunks. This is the first 'official' platonic soulmate side-story, and I'm happy you guys are following along even sans romance.

Work the next day was…sort of awkward.

She’d told Jane everything. _Everything_. Her reaction had varied between shock – “Tony Stark. _Tony Stark._ TONY STARK IS YOUR SOULMATE?!” – to righteous indignation – “It’s perfectly understandable that you might not want to have sex with a man _old enough to be your father_. Not to mention your sexuality, which is _none of their business_ …unless you want it to be!” – to big-sisterly sympathy – “Want me to beat him up?” “Jane, he’s _Iron Man._ ” “…want me to disprove all his theories?” - which was why Jane was her forever-favorite and she loved her.

She spent most of the day finishing the set-up for Jane’s stuff. The majority of Jane’s work would be happening in the communal labs, since she planned to collaborate with Stark, and possibly Banner – who they had yet to meet – and Jane had been appalled at the idea of having _two sets_ of machines _just_ so she wouldn’t have to move a few measly _floors_.

Privately, Darcy thought some of Jane’s objections might have stemmed from worry that being too expensive a proposition might keep them from funding her, but 1) Thor, 2) Stark was rich as a deity, 3) Jane was a _genius_ and they recognized that, and 4) _Thor_. Jane was probably still stuck in the ‘everyone in academia thinks I’m a nut and won’t give me grant money’ mind-set, even though most of the scientific world had been falling all over itself to get in her good graces ever since New York happened. Either way, the end result was that Jane and Darcy would probably be spending the vast majority of their time in the communal labs.

Where Tony had a space.

Which he was currently using.

Darcy studiously ignored him. She knew that actions spoke louder than words, but she wasn’t really sure if there was a way to aggressively _not_ have sex with Tony in order to get her point across. Having the ‘I’m asexual, and do not want to bump the uglies with _anyone_ , let alone our soulmate’ conversation was not currently on the table because she was not emotionally ready for that jelly (she’d had about eight variations on it with her parents, who _still_ were convinced her soulmates might ‘fix her’), and also because she really didn’t think _why_ she wasn’t going to have sex with Tony should _matter_. She could kind of get Pepper maybe having trust issues with _Tony_ , the whole world knew they’d had a very long, rocky path to being soulmates who were in a _relationship_ , but neither of them knew _her_ , she thought she should _at least_ get the benefit of the doubt.

There was a part of her that knew she was assuming the worst, that she knew might be being unfair to Pepper, that she knew was bringing up all sorts of armor and defenses that…might not be 100% necessary in this situation, but… It _mattered_ , what they thought mattered, even though she barely knew them, and that freaked her out. She had accepted herself, she was good at, as Morgan had said, 'doing Darcy,' but she wasn't a freakin' _island_.

It was just…frustrating. She threw herself into her work with Jane, managing to get all of their data organized on the Stark servers in a single day, instead of the two she’d planned for. By the time Jane decided to call it quits, she’d not looked at Tony more than twice: once to say, “G’morning,” and once to ask if he wanted any food when she got Jane some (“Ah, no,” he’d said, obviously surprised that she was asking, “but, um, thanks?”).

Awkward.

The next day was both better and worse: better, because they met Dr. Banner (“Call me Bruce, please.”) who was friendly and smart and interesting, and looked _incredibly_ cuddly. Worse because, although he was friendly, smart, and interesting, he also kept giving her these _looks_ and then glancing over at Tony, who was somehow _never_ looking back.

Every time he did it she just gave him her blandest smile. She’d studied politics, she could bland like nobody’s business. Eventually he sort of grinned at her, shook his head, shrugged, and…the looks stopped. She wasn’t sure what was going on, exactly, but since she had yet to figure out how to aggressively _not_ have sex with Tony, she had settled for aggressively _not_ giving any (outward) fucks about the situation. She would do her job, and do it _well_. They would work together, and that would be _it_.

It left her feeling melancholy, because it meant that she had to give up her hopes for the best-case scenario. The one where her soulmate _got_ the no-sexy thing and, even if they weren’t ace themselves, totally understood the benefits of curling up for regular non-sexual cuddles and maybe a hot beverage.

After a few days of working with Bruce, slowly warming up to him, she wished (deep, _deep_ down) that _he_ was her soulmate. He seemed like the sort of seen-it-all kinda guy who would _get_ her and the ace thing, also he seemed squishy in a good way. Darcy kind of wanted to proposition him for huggles (hug cuddles, shut up, they were totally a thing).

One week into their tenure at Stark Towers and Darcy was getting used to the status quo: Jane flitting around excitedly over the progress, Bruce offering observations, and Tony hovering off in his corner of the communal labs. So, of course, this was when he had to go and throw a curveball her way.

“Jane?” she asked, “Lunchtime? We were gonna go try the caf on the eighth?”

“Oh, right,” the response was half-muttered and the scientist had yet to peel herself from the reams of star charts she was going through, so the odds of actually getting her to eat something now were slim. “Can we – later? There’s a thing I need to check…”

There was always a thing, and it always led to _another_ thing. However, Jane had eaten an _actualfacts breakfast_ that morning, so it’d been a bit of a pipe dream to expect her to break for another real meal only a measly four hours later.

“Bruce?” Darcy asked, as per usual.

“Public cafeterias aren’t really my style,” Bruce answered, though he did smile at the invite, also per usual.

“Tony?” she called, not expecting a response.

He popped up from behind some machines, one hand fiddling with a small silver contraption that seemed to be attached to the side of his head. “What? Yeah, okay.”

She stared at him. “You _want_ to go to lunch?”

“That’s what you asked, right?” he asked, tone a touch defensive.

“Well, yeah, but – “ _I didn’t think you’d say ‘yes,’ you NEVER say ‘yes.’_ “Okay,” she said after a second or two of staring at his mulish expression, “well, I was going to try the cafeteria – “

“On the eighth floor, yeah, I heard.”

_You listened?_ “With Jane, yes, but since she’s not coming I’d be up for something else if you wanted?”

He shrugged, “Caf is fine, though I think the one on the seventeenth is serving fried shrimp today.”

It was Darcy’s turn to shrug, “Sure.” She grabbed her jacket – Tony kept the labs about six degrees warmer than the main floors - and made her way to the elevator, trying to figure out what was going on, and whether or not it would be uncomfortable. Judging by the way Tony was fidgeting next to her in the elevator, the answer to the second question was ‘yes.’

“So,” he said after a second or two, “I think we kind of got off on the wrong foot?”

“Which one were we supposed to be on?” Darcy muttered under her breath.

Tony turned to face her, frowning, “I wasn’t expecting _you_.”

“What _were_ you expecting?”

“To be honest?” he grimaced, “A scientist. Maybe someone I was supposed to, I don’t know, mentor?”

_Great, this CAN get worse._ “Sorry to disappoint,” she said, a little stung.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said tiredly, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I just…don’t know what to do with you.”

“You don’t have to do _anything_ with me,” she couldn’t help but point out.

“But I want to!” Tony burst out. “I want to at least get to know you, you’re one of my _soulmates._ ”

“Which doesn’t have to mean anything,” she reminded him, though it was mostly self-directed. She didn’t want to get her hopes up.

“But it _should_ ,” he told her, determined, “I want it to.”

Darcy steeled herself, she had to at least _try_ , and stuck out a hand: “Friends?”

“Yes,” he seemed relieved, giving her hand one firm shake. “Hi, I’m Tony Stark.”

“Seriously?” she asked, incredulous, but he seemed earnest. “Okay, fine: it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Stark, I’m Darcy Lewis.”

“’Tony,’ please! Only my board calls me ‘Mr. Stark.’”

“Call me Darcy, then. Wanna grab lunch?”

“Would I!” he bounced on his heels in faux-excitement, “It’s the best part of waking up!”

“Not Folgers in your cup?”

“Aren’t you a little young to remember that jingle?”

Darcy gave him the side-eye, “You’re kinda hung up on the age thing, aren’t you?”

When the elevator door opened he was still thinking that question over. “I wouldn’t say I’m ‘hung up’ on it, I don’t get ‘hung up,’ but it is a little weird. Soulmates with more than a decade in age between them are statistically unlikely. Were you born with your second soulmark, or did it show up when you were a kid?”

“Born with it.”

“So your other soulmate is older than you too,” he said, giving her an appraising look as he led her into the caf. “I can’t help but wonder _how much_ older. Also,” he said idly, still with that odd assessing gleam in his eye, “what is it about you that makes you the ‘perfect person’ for two people with, potentially, a large age gap.”

Darcy shrugged, “Too awesome for my agemates? I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Really? Never thought about what your soulmates might be like?” he asked as they headed towards the line. A few employees seemed startled by Tony’s making an appearance, the rest sort of ignored him: probably some sort of company protocol, or maybe they were just used to it.

“I mean, I thought about worst and best case scenarios,” she allowed after a moment, slowly filling her tray with various tasty-looking foodstuffs (this was the best caf, so far, by dint of having baba ghanoush _and_ hummus). “I made a few contingency plans, but none of them really took age into consideration as a factor.”

“What _were_ your important factors?”

Darcy gave him a serene smile and led him from the lunch line towards an empty table, seating herself across from him. “This isn’t really first-meeting conversation stuff, you know, Mr. Lets Start Over With a Cheesy Introduction,” she pointed out. “Soulmate stuff is usually reserved for drunkcapades or deep and meaningfuls between long-term friends.”

Tony looked a little frustrated, “Fine.” After a moment, “Can I ask one last question about soulmates?”

“You just did, but, _yes_ , sure. I reserve the right not to answer.”

He pointed at himself, “Worst-case?”

“Not worst-case,” she said slowly, “definitely _weirdest_ -case, but not worst.”

“What _was_ your worst-case?”

_That you’d hit on me._ “You got one question, Tony.”

“Spoilsport,” he grumped, poking at his plate (sushi and the aforementioned fried shrimp).

“I know!” Darcy said brightly, “Lets talk about _you._ ”

“Ha. Ha. Ha,” he pointed his chopsticks at her, “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“It’s these little things we have in common that make us soulmates.”

“I’ll have you know that I am _hilarious_.”

Darcy bit her tongue on _Hilarious looking?_ because she was not _five_ , thank you very much. “Actually,” she said, ignoring his comment, “I wonder what we _do_ have in common. Seriously. I mean, I was a polisci major and you’re… you. I’ve never even _owned_ a car, your dad built a _flying_ one – “

“It never really worked,” he interjected.

“Really, though, what was the universe _thinking?_ ”

“Does the universe think?”

“Questions for the ages,” she said solemnly. They fell into a comfortable silence while they ate their meals. Eventually, mood lifted by the good food, Darcy gave Tony a serious look, “I’m all for the trying-to-be-friends thing, really, but I don’t think we should, I don’t know, force it? Lets just,” she shrugged, “be ourselves? Work together? Let things flow naturally.”

“So, no more lunch?”

“No, just…no more big expectations? Neither of us were expecting _this_.”

Tony shrugged, “Sounds fair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In pirate speak, they have reached an accord.


	3. in which prickly Darcy pokes somebody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I promise that NOTHING IS ABANDONED.

The next few days were far less… _fraught._

Tony started to interact with them a little more, instead of just occasionally making the odd remark to (or at) Bruce. Jane watched him with suspicion, even though it was clear to Darcy that he was going out of his way to charm his fellow scientist. Bruce watched all of it with what appeared to be an amused and, towards Tony, approving eye.

The lunches were, apparently, to become a regular _thing_. By the end of the week Darcy was getting used to alternating: one lunch with Jane, the next with Tony (breakfast with the boss-lady on every Tony-lunch day). Conversation with him typically stayed in the popular culture range: music, films, sometimes books. Tony was, surprise surprise, a bit of a science fiction geek. He was _also_ , surprise _actual surprise_ , a big fan of some fantasy literatures.

“Can’t stand the – whatsit called? - _urban_ fantasy,” he’d told her with a sneer. “When magic and tech clash they always have the magic win, which, _please_. But the medieval-type stuff, that’s not so bad.”

Darcy had squinted at him. “You’re a GRRM fan, aren’t you,” she said with a touch of resignation.

“Winter is coming,” Tony had informed her seriously.

She’d rolled her eyes – yes, she had discovered, those muscles _could_ get strained – but bought the first book for her Kindle that night. She was trying, really. She _wanted_ to try. She was starting to feel a little less tense around him, not fully relaxed but not stuck in fight-or-flight mode, either. Tony was relaxing too, it seemed, though she wasn’t sure if it was because they were finding common ground or the fact that she hadn’t hit on him. She hadn’t seen Pepper since that first day, but, from what she could tell, the redhead rarely ventured down into the bowels of the science labs. Darcy was not exactly sure how she felt about the other woman. She could, now, with a little distance, acknowledge that she might not have been entirely fair to her, and she felt bad about that. Not bad enough to make any sort of overture, but a little guilty.

Things took a turn when another of the Avengers arrived for a few days. Apparently all of them had apartments in the Tower, but they also had Avenger-y missions _outside_ the Tower. Captain America, the Falcon, and the Widow were all currently on the hunt for the Winter Soldier – and yes, sometimes Darcy felt like she was living in a really bad science fiction franchise where everyone had stupid codenames – while Hawkeye was on some sort of hunt for the missing scientists and agents who were still under the power of Loki’s creepy Asgardian scepter. The hunt had taken over two years, but was now drawing to a close. Darcy was privy to this information because 1) she’d signed enough NDAs that she may very well have also signed her firstborn children away along with her free speech and 2) Tony and Bruce liked to gossip.

“Sir,” he called, “Mr. Barton would like to request lodgings for the weekend.”

Tony shot up out of his seat so quickly that Darcy’s internal monologue made a _sproing_ sound to accompany it. _The wonderful thing about Tonys is thank god there’s only one,_ she thought, then immediately chastised herself because that wasn’t particularly fair. He was growing on her as she got to know him and see past that smooth, sarcastic façade to the less-smooth but possibly _more_ sarcastic man underneath.

“Clint’s here?” Tony questioned, eyebrows raised.

“Yes, sir.”

“Think he’s done?” This question was addressed to Bruce.

“Maybe,” Bruce shrugged. “Might just be tired, you know? Want to come in from the cold for a while.”

“Do agents _get_ cold?” he questioned, looking skeptical.

Bruce sighed deeply.

“Fine, fine. Tell him to come on down, give us the sitch. Unless he is bleeding or in some other way icky, then tell him to shower and _then_ come down.”

“Uh… to the lab?” Darcy questioned.

“Sure, why not,” he shrugged carelessly. “I’ve got some bow schematics lying around here someplace that he should take a look at.”

She glanced over to Jane, who was still enthralled with whatever report she was inspecting. “If this is an Avenger-y reunion, then, ah – “

“You’re already in the know,” Tony pointed out. “Plus, soulmates. Soulmates of Avengers should be read in, right Bruce?”

“They _should_ be, yes,” the other scientist said, voice mild.

Tony winced and Darcy got the feeling that she’d missed something.

“Well, okay then. Meeting Hawkeye today, yay…” she sighed. It wasn’t that she _didn’t_ want to meet the Avengers, it was more that she didn’t want to be introduced to the Avengers as _Tony’s soulmate_ and get all of the baggage that was sure to go along with it. Then again, maybe she was blowing things out of proportion, borrowing trouble. She turned back to work to distract herself while she waited for the legendary archer to appear.

When he did, he didn’t look quite as impressive as she’d expected. He was average height, with dark blonde hair and tired-looking blue eyes. There was something in the way he carried himself that pinged Darcy’s radar, though. He didn’t look out-and-out _dangerous_ , per se, but the way he moved and the watchful manner he possessed made him worth a second look. It wasn’t something she would have noticed if she hadn’t been looking for it, though.

“Tony, Bruce,” he said, smiling faintly when he saw the other two men.

“Legolas!” Tony said, grinning.

“Clint,” Bruce nodded, his smile small but genuine. “It’s good to see you.”

He nodded, coming further into the room, then stopping short when he laid eyes on first Jane, then Darcy. “Ah, hi… wow, Stark, I didn’t realize you’d learned how to share your toys. Tasha will be very impressed, after she gets over being shocked.”

“She does shock?”

“Occasionally. This might be just enough to do it.”

“That’s Dr. Jane Foster, Thor’s soulmate,” Bruce said, indicating Jane, “and this is Darcy Lewis, her assistant – “

“She’s mine,” Tony said.

Darcy blinked at that. “I’m Jane’s assistant,” she reminded him.

“She’s my soulmate,” he clarified, watching Clint carefully.

Clint looked at her, giving her a quick onceover which prompted her to offer a disclaimer of her own: “Not _that_ kind of soulmate.”

That prompted him to give her a double take.

“What?” Darcy asked, a touch defensive. “We’re platonic.”

He nodded, “No, it’s not that. Just, what you said, it reminded me of – never mind. Anyways, I just came down here for a quick hi and goodbye. I need to get in contact with a few people to wrap this up, and I was hoping to use your secure servers…?”

Tony nodded absently, shooting a frown Darcy’s way. “Sure, yeah. Knock yourself out.”

“Thanks, see you later. Dr. Foster, Ms. Lewis,” he nodded at the two and then left.

There was a short pause as Tony stared after Clint long enough o be sure he was gone before he turned to Darcy. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“The whole,” he gestured absently with the tool in his hand, spattering some black fluid – probably oil – over his workspace, “platonic thing.”

“Well, we are,” she said, squinting at him.

“Yeah, but you didn’t – “ he blew out a breath. “Why is this such a big deal for you?”

“Uh, I think I’m going to grab lunch,” Bruce said. “Jane!”

“What?” she looked up. “Oh, is it lunchtime already?”

“Yes, yes it is. Lets go.”

Jane frowned over at Darcy, “You coming?”

“Not right now,” she said, very carefully keeping her voice even and cheerful. “Wanna finish this up.”

“Okay,” she said dubiously, but gamely followed Bruce out of the lab.

Darcy waited until they were out and the door had whooshed shut behind them before turning back to Tony, who was still scowling, arms crossed over his chest and arc reactor in a pose that she was beginning to recognize as defensive. “Why is _what_ such a big deal for me?” she asked, keeping that same even tone.

“The platonic thing. Why is it such a _thing?_ Why do you – “ he made a frustrated noise.

“I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea,” she told him.

He scoffed, “Right. Wrong idea. Wouldn’t want anyone thinking you’re fucking Stark.” He dropped the tool and wiped his hands on his pants, “I’m going to go – I’m sure Pep’s got something she’s been wanting me to sign, or somebody she’s been wanting me to dazzle, you just…” Tony walked out without finishing the sentence, every line of his body communicating frustration as he stalked out of the lab.

Darcy stared after him with wide eyes. “It’s not _you_ ,” she said quietly, finally finding her voice in the empty silence of the lab. “There’s nothing wrong with you. I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about _me_.”

She realized abruptly that, after so many years worrying that her soulmate wouldn’t accept her or understand, she’d never given thought to the idea that her soulmate might feel rejected _by her_. Might be _hurt_ … because he didn’t understand, didn’t know why she was acting the way she was. In guarding herself, she’d hurt her soulmate, and that – that made her feel like her insides were twisting in on themselves.

“Hopefully,” she addressed the words on her left foot, “our relationship will be less… confusing.”

But somehow she doubted it would be. The universe seemed intent on making “Drama” her middle name.


	4. in which there is much ado

The next few days made the level of awkward she’d experienced immediately after meeting Tony seem like a cakewalk. It was like an invisible wall had come down within the lab: Tony (and occasionally Clint) on one side, Darcy and Jane on the other, and Bruce hopping back and forth between them. It wasn’t that Tony was being overtly rude, he hadn’t said anything. He had literally said _nothing_. No greeting in the morning, no goodbye when she left, and no acknowledgement of their standing lunch date. They’d missed two, and she was surprised by how much she missed them, missed _him_.

Bruce kept giving her _looks_ , like he was expecting her to fix things.

Jane, when Darcy explained what had happened, had bitten her lip and shrugged. “It’s your choice what to tell him and when to tell him, if you do it at all, but Darcy… I think keeping quiet is making you feel worse than just _doing it_ would.”

Even Clint was watching her, not obviously, but she would catch him at it every so often. Each time he would wait until she made eye contact, then smile obnoxiously, making it obvious that he’d _let_ her catch him watching. Darcy wasn’t sure why he found their little drama so interesting, but she was prepared to tell him to butt the hell out the instant he did more than just _look_ at the problem.

The issue was this: Darcy knew that she should just woman-up and tell Tony that the platonic thing was a big deal for her because she was ace. She _knew that_ , she’d even had that conversation (or a version of it) before. It hadn’t gone very well (understatement) and she was still dealing with the fallout. Her parents’ willful obliviousness hurt, like a splinter she’d lived with long enough that she could ignore it until she poked at it and it needed to heal all over again. She didn’t want to have to go through something like that with Tony, or anyone, ever again.

 _Besides,_ the grumpy, chips-and-dip-on-my-shoulder, part of her couldn’t help but wonder, _why can’t he just accept what I’m saying at face value?_ The thing was, he probably could have, he _had been_ , until she made a Big Deal of it. Now it was a Thing and she knew how to fix the Thing, theoretically, but she wasn’t sure if telling Tony would make things better or worse. Darcy had hurt Tony, even if she hadn’t meant to, so she doubted that he would make the first move to bridge the gap between them. Which left it up to her.

Which left them in limbo.

Until, of course, fate decided to throw a monkey wrench into the proceedings.

Clint practically bounced into the labs one day, grinning in a manner that Darcy found vaguely threatening. “They found him,” he said, and Tony and Bruce immediately dropped what they were doing (literally, in the former case) to stare at him. “They ran him down in some little hovel on the outskirts of Kiev. Apparently he was all set to bolt again, but then Sam tried to work some sweet psych magic and it turns out they’re soulmates.”

“You’re kidding,” Tony said flatly.

The archer raised his brows, “Why would I kid about something like that?”

Tony sent a fleeting glance Darcy’s way before rolling his shoulders and letting out a breath. “Okay, so when can we expect them?”

“About thirty minutes from now.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Yeah… uh, my phone sort of died? Tasha called me yesterday,” Clint said, rubbing one hand over the back of his neck and looking distinctly sheepish.

Tony groaned. “Oh god, I have to call Pep and let her know. The suites are ready, they’ve _been_ ready, but I don’t have one for the Iceman who cometh - ”

Bruce coughed to cover a laugh while Darcy rolled her eyes.

“ – so he might just have to couch it for a while. That is unacceptable, really – “

“I don’t think finding Barnes a room is gonna be an issue,” Clint said, talking over Tony. “Apparently he hasn’t let Sam out of his sight since they showed each other their words, and now that he’s let Steve close enough to actually _talk_ …” He shrugged. “They’ll probably only need one room.”

“Huh,” Tony said, a speculative gleam in his eyes. “Do you think – “

“Nope,” Bruce said, holding up a hand. “No. There will be no theorizing, predicting, or out-loud- _musings_ about the possible sex lives of people we _haven’t even met yet_.”

“But they’re fair game once you’ve met them?”

He sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose, but didn’t _actually_ say no, Darcy noted. Judging by the grin Tony was wearing, he’d also noticed, and was already planning to take a mile more than the foot he’d been (implicitly) offered.

“What? People?” Jane asked, finally joining the conversation.

“Yes, new people coming to the tower,” Darcy told her. “They’ll be here later, but we probably won’t see them for a while, I don’t think any of them are scientists.”

“No, but Tasha has a sort of a soft spot for Tony – “

“If by ‘soft spot’ you mean she likes _tormenting_ me,” the futurist grumbled.

“Yeah, but that’s how she shows affection. She’s like a cat.”

“I’m telling her you said that.”

Clint rolled his eyes, then turned to Darcy, expression oddly intense in a way that made her want to fidget (and possibly hide). “I’ll bring her down, introduce her to the newbies,” he said with an easy smile that in no way distracted her from his strange new focus. With that, he turned on his heel and headed back out.

“I gotta call Pepper, and then direct her ire towards Clint. And possibly get him a phone with a longer life,” Tony muttered to himself.

“He’ll probably just lose it,” Bruce noted, returning to his work.

“So,” Jane popped up beside Darcy, startling her so much she nearly fell out of her chair. “New people? Who?”

“Captain America, the Falcon, the Black Widow, and the Winter Soldier, also known as Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff – or maybe Romanova? I’m not sure – and Bucky Barnes.”

“Right,” she said, nodding. It looked like she wasn’t paying attention, but Darcy knew that the scientist would remember everything she said, even if she wasn’t giving her all of her attention. “Do I need to…?”

“They’ve got it covered.”

“Great!” Jane said, beaming, and immediately sank back into science land.

Darcy shook her head fondly and got back to work. She made a point of not looking at the clock and, soon enough, she fell into a haze of data entry and cross-referencing. There was a point of convergence between two galaxies that Jane was studying because it looked as though the light was _bending_ around something. Or, at least, that was what Darcy had picked up from Jane’s rapid-fire explanation. She could usually get the gist of what the older woman was saying, even if the finer details escaped her. It seemed like no time at all had passed, but then she heard her name –

“… and Darcy, the new scientists,” she heard Clint say.

She spun in her chair to take him, and his guest, in. “Technically, I’m not _that_ kind of scientist,” she said.

Clint was wearing the very _definition_ of a shit-eating grin and Natasha Romano-something was staring at Darcy the way Jane looked at the new readings she was able to get with Tony’s bigger, better equipment. The Black Widow was absolutely gorgeous, lushly curved and with a classically beautiful face. Darcy kind of wanted to just stare at her for a while in pure aesthetic appreciation. Then she opened her mouth and changed everything:

“How would you define yourself, then?” she asked.

Darcy’s jaw dropped and her eyes popped open wide. She knew that she probably looked like some sort of fish, but she _never_ in a million _years_ would have guessed that Soulmate #2 (the weirdly existential one) would turn out to be a superhero. Or a woman, to be frank, after she’d gotten used to hearing questions like that from the philosophy dudebros at Culver. _How?_ her mind gibbered. _How did this happen? What the **hell?!**_

“Hi,” she said, swallowing hard. “So. This is unexpected.”

“Yes,” Natasha said, driving her elbow into Clint’s side and forcing a loud grunt from his chest. “It is.”

Darcy stood and braced herself against her desk to remove her shoe and sock. Then she twisted around, a little awkwardly, to show them the bottom of her left foot, where Natasha’s precise, blocky script was located. “You?” she asked, sitting down again to put sock and shoe back on (bare feet in a lab was a disaster waiting to happen).

Natasha lifted her shirt to reveal her stomach, which was completely mark-free until she scratched her nails over something and suddenly Darcy’s handwriting was shimmering into view. Unlike with Tony, her writing stood alone.

“Am I your only soulmate?” Darcy asked timidly.

She nodded. “You?”

“Well – “

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tony broke into their tableau, making Darcy jump. “ _She’s_ your other soulmate? Oh my god, this makes _so much more sense,_ now!” His eyes flicked from one woman to the other and then he nodded, grinning appreciatively. “Nice,” he said, and the thing of it was – he looked _genuinely approving_ , and not just in a sleazy way (although the salacious undertone was present and accounted for), he looked genuinely _pleased_ that Darcy’s other soulmate had shown up, and was a woman. Darcy could see how it fit together in his head, Natasha’s femininity the final piece of a puzzle he’d been unsuccessfully trying to solve, and it was the final straw for her.

“Jesus _Christ_ , Tony! _Not everything is about sex._ Platonic soulmates are a thing, you know, and _not just between people with incompatible orientations_. For the record, though? I am sexually incompatible with _everyone_. I’m ace. I am an asexual human being. I do not want to have sex with _men_ , I do not want to have sex with _women_ , I do not want to have sex with _anyone on any part of the human gender spectrum_. I’ve even met aliens now, too and guess what? I don’t want to fuck _them_ , either! Are you happy, now? Does this make sense to you?”

He looked more than a little thrown by her tirade, but he was visibly gathering himself. She could almost _see_ him assimilating the information and applying to all of the other conversations they’d had. The instant he opened his mouth, she decided that, at the moment, she didn’t really want to hear anything he had to say.

“Jane? Lunch?” she called, flinching when the other woman appeared at her elbow as if by magic.

“Sounds great, lets go,” Jane said, the steely look in her eyes practically _dared_ someone to object.

“Natasha, it was interesting meeting you. Clint, you’re an asshole,” Darcy said, and then she let Jane steer her from the room.

“I’m sorry,” the scientist said as soon as they’d gotten a little ways down the hall. “I know I told you it would probably be better to say something, but I didn’t – I mean, I hadn’t expected _that_. Are you okay?”

Darcy snorted. “Nobody could have expected that, except Clint, apparently. And… no, I’m not really okay.” She pushed her hair back behind her ear, sighing. “I… that sucked. That was, like, the second worst coming out, and it’s not even _over_ because I don’t know their reactions yet. This is like a staying of execution.”

“Do you want to go back?” Jane asked carefully.

“ _Hell_ no. I want to go get lunch with you, and then I want to pretend today never happened. Except for the bit where I found my other soulmate. I’ll keep that bit. She is not _at all_ what I expected, though. _Oh my god_ ,” Darcy said, eyes widening as a thought occurred. “Jane, my soulmates are Tony Stark, the most infamous manwhore to whore, and the _Black Widow_. What was the universe smoking?!”

“You’re talking to a scientist whose soulmate is an intergalactic Crown Prince,” Jane said dryly. “You’re not the first to question the universe’s workings, trust me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Show of hands, how many of you saw this coming?
> 
>  
> 
> ***EDIT: thank you to everyone who caught the fuck up with mark placement. It's fixed, and no, Darcy doesn't have three soulmates in this fic. Just _one_ idiotic author.**


End file.
